


Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

by Whreflections



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has New York City under a constant downpour. Steve’s worried about the city and Tony’s worried about him, because there’s a distance between them he doesn’t understand and even though he told himself he wouldn’t hope for anything, they were getting closer to something. Or so he thought. Now, he just needs a way to get Steve’s attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for misspamela over at LJ for the Cap_Ironman holiday fic exchange, :)

 

  
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;   
  
It had been raining for 23 days. At first, the weather channels started calling for floods but when it became pretty clear that the water wasn’t actually pooling anywhere, it was time for the superhero community to sit up and take notice. Or, you know, mostly blame Loki and roll their eyes because seriously, the guy was just getting  _irritating_.   
  
"I mean, I don’t think we can even call him a proper villain. Seriously, I’d love to know what his next move is, is he gonna go around spilling wine on people’s dry cleaning? Keeping their Jell-o from setting?" Tony smirked, swirled the ice around in what was left of his scotch as he kicked his feet up on the arm of the couch. "Maybe he’ll go wild, put sugar down everyone’s pants."   
  
From where he perched on the edge of the loveseat closer to the TV, Steve frowned. "Tony, come on, this is serious. The city might not be flooding right now, but-"  
  
"But  _nothing_ , Christ, Steve, there’s a reason the myth of the flood talks about rain for 40 days and 40 nights, and do you know why that is? That’s not that long, it’s just over a month, but when it rains  _every damn day_  your water level will start to rise pretty alarmingly pretty fast. With the way it’s coming down if he wanted to go all Noah’s ark on our asses we’d already be on our way there."  
  
On the screen a reporter in high heels with ruby red lips gestured to a doorway back over her left shoulder, to a bedraggled little black kitten pressing itself up against the door of a bakery. Steve’s frown turned down just a little further, and Tony cursed himself inside because goddamn, that shouldn’t be attractive. The man was frowning over wet kittens, nothing about that should’ve sparked  _anything_  under his skin.   
  
"We have to do something about this." Steve muttered so low it was like he hadn’t meant to say it. Who knew, maybe he hadn’t even realized he had.   
  
"We are, we’re on it. Thor’s looking for his dear brother everywhere. We’ve been scanning the city in shifts, I’ve got that program going to map atmospheric disturbances. At the moment, there’s not much else we  _can_  do."   
  
"Put out some collection buckets? Stay inside? Buy umbrellas for the poor?" Clint vaulted over the back of the sofa, landing at least half gracefully onto the end Tony wasn’t using. He leaned back to look at Steve over his shoulder, his smile managing to look much less mocking than Tony’s. "Really, Cap, it sucks but I think Tony’s right on this one. It’s irritating but so far harmless, like…like Loki’s version of a mosquito bite."   
  
Steve sighed, spun the remote over in his palm a few times before he caved and switched the TV off. "Mosquitos carry malaria, you know."   
  
"Was that petulant? Could America’s sweetheart actually be getting  _petulant_  with us, Barton?"   
  
Steve went for the kitchen without acknowledging anything, and Tony fought back the jab of disappointment in his chest.   
  
"Hey, Steve, there’s still some of that soup Pepper made in the fridge if you want, just tell JARVIS that-"  
  
"I’m not hungry, Tony, thanks."   
  
It was about as successful as every conversation he’d had with Steve for the last week, and it was equally maddening because he had  _no idea_  why. Granted, nothing had been happening between them to begin with. He’d wanted it to almost as much as he  _hadn’t_  wanted it to, but there had been plenty of unnatural closeness and he’d done more flirting than he’d done in years(without getting something for it, at least) and it all seemed to be heading toward something that he cheered even as he continued to drag his feet.   
  
Part of him, a large part that seemed to keep growing roughly at the rate of cancer, that part wanted to be with Steve so bad it was nearly driving him crazy. The other part, the sensible part that knew himself well enough to know what he was capable of and to remind himself of every fucking horrible thing he’d ever done, that part did its best to keep reminding him that the more he cared about Steve the more he should hope Steve would back down because out of all the things Steve deserved, a relationship with someone like him wouldn’t even make the backup list.   
  
Still, hopes and wishes aside, it had seemed like it just might be something Steve wanted, that he might actually see something in Tony beyond the suit, at least up until a few days ago. He’d been distant, quiet, frustrated with something Tony couldn’t place. Other than the torrential downpours, nothing had changed. There’d been a couple of minor troubles but nothing major, nothing that should be getting to Steve like this. It just didn’t make any sense. For once, he was fairly sure he hadn’t done a damn thing wrong, and all things considered that was quite the feat.   
  
He’d been up early on Sunday, hadn’t run in to Steve until the afternoon when he asked him to come down and help him work on the little Crossfire they’d been modifying but Steve had been busy and he’d distant and Tony’d been working with his disappearing act ever since. Not there for their lunch on Tuesday, he sat beside Natasha at the meeting on Wednesday, and he hadn’t been down to the workshop in days.   
  
"...Tony, man, are you even listening to me?"   
  
He jerked as Clint raised his voice, shook as head once before jolting out of his seat like it had been all he needed to spur him on. "Nope, can’t say that I was."   
  
Clint would forgive him later. Probably. This thing with Steve was the bigger problem, consuming more of his thoughts every day, filling in every available space. He’d tried to tell himself over and over not to get invested in hope. Tony wasn’t used to failing, but he felt like he was getting dangerously close to losing that battle. Truthfully, it was probably already lost. Back down in the safety of his lab, Tony tapped his hands on his desk, thinking. All he needed, really, was Steve’s attention. If he hadn’t done something wrong(and he would swear to God he hadn’t, for _once_ , honestly), then it just might have nothing to do with him, might have more to do with the past and memories or something else he knew nothing about. If that was it, then the best thing he could do would be to distract him, to draw Steve’s attention out to something that would cheer him up, something that would…  
  
"JARVIS, get me Pepper on the phone."   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
"Here. Pack it to go."   
  
The plastic container Tony slapped on the counter wobbled, settling in front of Steve with a slight clatter. The surprise had Steve pausing halfway through chewing the latest bite of his bagel sandwich, and his eyes flickered from the counter to Tony as he swallowed.   
  
"What?"  
  
"Pack it in here. To go. You can eat it while we’re walking."   
  
"Tony,-"   
  
Fear of being rejected yet again pushed the words out even faster, racing forward even as he tossed the newspaper down alongside one hand on the counter. "Here, see, gotta be moving. Think we’re expected downtown in…JARVIS?"  
  
"Twenty minutes, sir."   
  
"Twenty minutes, right, can’t keep the press waiting, things to do, kittens to kiss, seriously, are you going to finish that or not? Cause if you’re not-"  
  
"Tony, did you do this?"  _There_  it was, the faint awe in Steve’s voice that he got whenever Tony surprised him. It slid under Tony’s skin like hot coffee, warming him and jarring his nerves. There was nothing like Steve’s approval, so much as a nod from this idealistic man that was the best of them all. Tony loved being a hero, sure, but even at his weakest Steve had had the heart of hero and nothing else all his life, and that was something totally different.   
  
Tony had almost been sure he’d love this, a project to relieve some of the effects of the rain on the city’s homeless. His company would be supplying tents on a temporary basis, made of a durable water repelling fabric he’d had in development for potential future use in military operations. City workers would be constructing them at strategic points throughout the weak to provide spots for getting in and getting dry, but the Avengers would be kicking it off by putting a few tents themselves throughout the first day, with press coverage of course. He’d seen to it that he and Steve had the first shift, of course.   
  
"Yeah, why not? It was just a matter of the right fabric, which, I’ve had this thing in the works for years, just needed a few more finishing touches. And the rest, I mean, I think we’re all nearly bored to tears, so… Seemed pretty logical to me; I asked Pepper and she said it shouldn’t be that hard to get the press involved. What, you think it’s a bad idea?" Baiting, he was always baiting everyone because no matter how sure he ever was of anything personal, he could never sate the itch to hear it said.   
  
"This is wonderful, Tony. I thought you didn’t-"  
  
"Hey, I still think we can all stand a little rain, but I’m not a total idiot. Besides…" Tony spun around, snatched two filled coffee mugs away from the dispenser against the wall. "I live with this guy, you might know him, a real bleeding heart. He tends to you know, make me pull my head out of my ass and notice these things. Coffee?"   
  
As he took the cup their fingers brushed, and he tried not to catalogue how long it was before Steve pulled his away.   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
Tony was generally certain he had clothes for every occasion. This one, though, completely defied him. He’d expected it, had known he was going to feel and look ridiculous no matter what he wore but he hadn’t quite expected to feel like everything he wore weighed ten tons. The suit was a thousand times heavier, obviously, but it was useful and he was protected and he wasn’t wet or swinging a hammer he was barely concealing that he struggled to lift and really, Steve was lucky he liked him so damn much.   
  
Every time he looked up, though, he realized the whole thing wasn’t so bad. Steve was right next to him, jeans glove tight against him with a white t-shirt that left absolutely no facet of his truly ridiculous muscles to the imagination. He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or irritated; it made it a hell of a lot harder to tear his eyes away and keep working hard. Charitable super heroes weren’t supposed to use public events like this to stare at each other’s asses.   
  
"Hey, Tony." He went ahead and followed through with his swing, driving the spike a little deeper before he looked up to see Steve watching him, something around his eyes just a little crinkled like he was trying his best not to smile. "Why don’t I take over for that? You can tie off on the ropes for me, ok? I’m terrible at these knots."   
  
Right, of course he was, because it wasn’t as if that was a skill military men ever learned. Still, his arms were killing him already, and Steve was trying to save Tony’s pride. He might as well let him think it worked. He nodded, handed his hammer off to Steve with one hand.   
  
"Yeah, sure, I got it." God, Steve didn’t even make it look mildly difficult, just swung the godforsaken thing like it was light as a yo-yo. Tony tried not to imagine how easily he might lift other things, how it might feel to have his legs wrapped around Steve’s waist, to be held up by just his hands. He scrubbed a hand over his face, rubbing rainwater into his eyes. He couldn’t think like that, not now where he wouldn’t be able to hide it. He took up the rope, easily tying the knot for Steve’s next post.   
  
"This really was wonderful of you, Tony. These are going to help a lot of people."   
  
"Soon as we get ‘em up, the rain’s gonna stop, I just know it." Because that was exactly the sense of humor Loki had, the kind  _he_  had sometimes. He’d stop the rain when it was convenient, or when it inconvenienced someone else. "So, after this-" Tony tugged on the knot, pulling it about half as tight as the one forming in his stomach. "I was thinking, after this-hey, here." He shoved the spike into Steve’s hands, rubbed his fingertips to spread the lingering heat of contact as he pulled away. It was a tick of his own, something he couldn’t help whenever Steve touched him but  _this_  time Steve’s eyes were tracking the motion, he could see it, and the knot in his stomach swirled just a little bit tighter. Tony rubbed his palms on his jeans, calluses rasping against soaked denim. "Thor and Clint are up next. I was thinking we could head back, get dry, maybe make some lunch, I know you wanted to try that new turkey thing Natasha was talking about."   
  
Steve shrugged, head down as he lined up his stake. "It’s alright, Tony."   
  
"It’s alright as in it’s a plan or-"  
  
"It’s alright as in…" He half shrugged, shielded the motion in a swing of the hammer. "You don’t have to make time to hang out with me, Tony. I’m doing alright here, I know it was hard for me to adjust at first but you don’t have to worry about me; I’m fine."   
  
"Please, you really think that was charity? How much charity do you see me practicing, exactly? Well I mean, other than the obvious, clearly, but on a personal basis, trust me, I don’t go in for charity. To be honest, there’s…" How honest could he be, really?  _There’s no one I’d rather spend time with than you? There’s the fact that I think I might be kind of in love with you, so… There’s no way I’d ever mind working my day around you?_  "It’s not actually that easy to find people who ever get past that initial reaction even you had of hating my guts once they’ve met me, so…" He gave his own shrug, burning his fingers on the rope as he yanked his knot through. "It’s you and Pepper and Rhodey, that’s it, really."   
  
Tony would’ve bet a lot of his substantial fortune that there were some things that Steve would almost never be willing to take initiative on. In battle he was certainly no stranger to it, leading them with skill and grace and that brand of stupidity that never seemed like arrogance on him but just good ol’ American pride. At those things he was a master, but other times he seemed to lose his step, to falter drastically in his coordination.   
  
He’d have bet, bet even  _more_  based on the silence that had followed his words, and he’d have lost millions. Steve caught his arm, pulling back sharply enough to yank Tony off balance to rest against his chest. Before Tony could even speak Steve had his face in his hands, his mouth descending on Tony’s with a determination that drove the air straight from his lungs. Steve was actually kissing him, not a peck on the cheek or even on the lips but a kiss with frustration and fascination and  _want_. He wasn’t dreaming, either, he knew he couldn’t be because when he moaned and parted his lips in invitation and Steve took it, he tasted like nothing Tony could’ve ever imagined.   
  
His own hands found their way to Steve’s face, his thumbs rubbing across stubble on his jaw and God his eyes had to be rolling straight back into his head because Steve’s tongue was actually in his mouth, inexperienced but plenty eager. Their lips were both already wet, slick with cold rain that stood in stark contrast to the hot damp Steve left behind when they parted for soft panting breaths against each other’s lips. Tony chased after him, took control of deepening a kiss that gave him a chance to explore Steve’s mouth, triumphant desire thrumming in his chest when Steve moaned at a stroke of his tongue. Steve wanted this, he actually wanted this, and Tony couldn’t get enough.   
  
Right there in the street under sheets of rain with the dawning realization that there had to be a dozen pictures of them being taken, Tony probably would’ve kept kissing him until Fury came to stop them. Fortunately for both of them, probably, Steve’s pulled himself together a little sooner, finally pulling back when Tony tried to follow his lips again. Even then he licked the taste of Tony off of them, too pretty eyelashes fluttering shut as he did. Everything was new to him, everything, and Tony’s mind was whirling with that intoxicating knowledge. Focus, he had to focus, he should say something, anything, he-  
  
"Tony, I thought…I mean, I had wondered but…" Whatever his talents, the man was not good at certain conversations. Not that it mattered, really, because Tony wasn’t either. "Well, I…the other night, you didn’t…" Steve cocked his head, his voice rising just a little like he wasn’t sure it was carrying over the sound of rain on canvas. "I saw a man coming out of your room. Sunday morning. And I just thought…" His eyes finished it, better than his words ever could have, sharp hurt filling up in eyes that seemed just a little lighter blue. "I thought maybe you had someone already."  
  
Oh  _Christ_ , that was it, _honestly_? He’d thought he was fucking…oh,  _hell_. "What, you mean Rhodey? Have you seriously never met- God, you haven’t, have you? He spends more time out in California, but if you’re talking about the day last week he got wasted and fell asleep on my bathroom floor? Yes, that would’ve involved him leaving eventually, but the better question is if you’ve been spending your mornings so preoccupied with my door, why the fuck haven’t you knocked? Actually on second thought, as early as you get up I’d rather-"  
  
"Tony, can you just…" Steve shook his head, droplets of water flying from the tips of his hair before he leaned in to press his lips firmly to Tony’s once more. There was no hint of tongue this time, no teeth, just restraint and a chaste kiss that somehow still set Tony burning. "Do you want this, yes or no?"   
  
"If by ‘this’ you mean-"  
  
"I don’t mean  _just_  that, Tony, I…I’m not saying I don’t want that because of course I do, but what I meant was-" He was, honestly, the only man on which a rising blush had ever looked anything but stupid. Tony fought to cut him off, partially because the waver of defeat he’d heard in Steve’s voice scared him and partially because for once, that hadn’t actually been what he meant.   
  
"You didn’t even let me finish, you can’t tell me it’s not ‘just’ anything if you don’t let me finish, now can you?" Steve’s eyes were too damn blue, impossibly blue, and Tony had the stupid urge to wipe the rain off those damn lashes. He settled for swiping at the corner of one, pretending it was just a prelude to pushing Steve’s wet hair back from his eyes. "You and me, right? That’s what we’re talking about here. I can do that, everyone seems to think I’m incapable but I can actually do that, swear to God. I think. If you want, I mean…" He really really  _really_  hoped so, because if he fucked this up, if he fucked  _Steve_  up, he’d never forgive himself.   
  
If it was up to Tony they’d be kissing again right then. It was the perfect time for it and they’d already given the world plenty of tabloid fodder that morning, so why the hell not? Steve just wrapped his arms around Tony, big and solid and strong and holding Tony against a chest too damp with rain to be truly warm. It still felt fucking phenomenal and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Steve, digging his fingers into the t-shirt sticking to his back.   
  
"I’d vote for you like this in a wet t-shirt contest. Actually, I’d be coming up to slip you a drink or something and try to figure out the odds of hitting that after you got offstage." His words muffled against Steve’s shoulder, but not enough to keep them from catching his interest.   
  
"A wet t-shirt contest?"  
  
"Never mind. Just focus on the part about how I’d pay to peel you out of that thing, how’s that?" Pulling back, he ran his hands down Steve’s chest until his palms dragged over pronounced nipples, was about to rub his thumbs across them when Steve caught his hands.   
  
" _Tony_."   
  
"Right, appropriate, I-"  
  
"Not  _here_." He sounded only mildly exasperated, but if the pitch of his voice and the way his hands hadn’t actually moved Tony’s but just pressed them closer were any indication, he was more than a little turned on. It could mean he had good odds on dragging Steve into a warm shower when they got back(though he wasn’t even sure if he _wanted_  that yet, because while he damn well wants to fuck the man senseless, the urge to do this thing  _right_  and make it last was so strong he’d wonder what had come over him if he didn’t want it so bad. The wondering could come later.) or if it meant he’d just get a chance to peel that shirt off and lick and suck at those nipples and show Steve he can make him desperate to come with that alone, just tongue and teeth and fingertips on his chest and his neck and those broad shoulders. Maybe it just meant Steve  _wanted_  but not yet, not yet, and that’d be perfectly alright too, because whatever crazy number this man had done to his head, Steve is all Tony wants. He didn’t want to balk at this thing anymore, and it was actually a nice feeling.   
  
"Well then." Tony cocked his eyebrows, questioning. "Lead the way, Cap."   
  
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End file.
